


you shine like Brighton pier, my dear

by emptyenigma



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Fluff, Hat Films, M/M, Minor cursing, Urban Magic Yogs, alternative universe, headcanons, umy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyenigma/pseuds/emptyenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Trott flicked his fringe from his eyes and picked up the tickets the man had slid under the glass. He remembered suddenly that he was being tactless and attempted to cover the name on the ticket, but it was too late for that. Ross had a frustrating habit of reading anything and everything he laid eyes on: private or otherwise. “Brighton?”</i><br/>Trott takes Ross on a little bonding trip to one of his favourite (and least favourite) places in England.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. take my darling to the sea

Trott ran his thumb absently across Ross’ fingers. He adored the way his skin felt, the way the marble surface was covered with chips and scratches from where his hands had been worn and weathered, and the patches of peculiar metals and gemstones that filled the larger of these empty veins. It was comforting to be reminded of Ross’ capability to look after himself. He was careful and obedient in a way Smith had never been, at least not to his knowledge. Even now, while Trott was making him walk all the way to the station to catch a three hour train ride, he hadn’t so much as opened his mouth to complain. In fact, he had spent the entire twenty minute walk staring blankly at the pavement occasionally commenting on the snow with gentle interest, though Trott knew he’d seen it many times before. He found it mildly unsettling; Ross was such a stark contrast to Smith and he rarely spent time with anyone else. Not to mention, Ross was a relatively new addition to their small family and despite his great efforts, he was finding it difficult to settle the gargoyle in. It was easy to forget that the guy had spent a lifetime perched on a stone pole outside a church and only couple of weeks in the apartment. That was what led him to where he was now, traipsing a ridiculously long way on foot thanks to the unpredictable reliability of Smith’s car in order to catch the next train to the “unspecified location”. There was no need to name where they were going as he was sure Ross wouldn’t know where it was anyway. Trott knew that he wouldn’t persist in asking if he told him not to. He was a good boy like that.  
   
As they looped a corner, Trott unhooked his fingers and prised his hand away from Ross, who made a small noise of protest that was nearly undetectable over the bustling street sound. The station was a few feet ahead, looking plain and uninteresting as ever with its faded advertisements and boring posters encouraging people not to drop litter or vandalise the walls, though that clearly gave them little incentive as only a metre or so away, someone had sprayed the word ‘knob’ onto a sign. Trott had a sinking feeling he recognised the handwriting. He gently guided Ross towards the automatic doors, something the gargoyle seemed to struggle with, and into the lobby area. The ticket desk stood at one end of the room, three separate cubicles but only one occupied. The man behind the screen of glass looked almost as plain and uninteresting as the station: deep sunken eyes and stubble across his chin. Trott approached him and murmured something quietly under the glass so he could keep their destination secret for a while longer. Ross stood behind him, his tail flicking back and forth. He reminded himself that no-one could see his tail due to their glamour and so he shouldn’t worry about attracting attention although that wasn't necessarily a problem as luckily enough the station appear to be lacking visitors today. Unless this was how busy train stations usually were. He thought not, considering the amount of times he’d heard Smith complain about the trains in the past week alone. Casually, he hooked his thumbs into his pockets and leant against a pillar, watching Trott with keen eyes as he chatted politely with the ticket vendor. He was fascinated by the way Trott behaved around humans, embarrassingly so. Just reminding himself that Trott was an entirely different species to the man opposite him seemed insane, and yet it was true. The selkie looked up at him with a fierce mischievous smile.  
   
“You are going to love what I have in store for you, sunshine.” He boasted, a little glint in his eye.  
“Mm-hm. I’m sure I will. Wish you wouldn’t make such a big deal out of keeping it a secret, though.”  
Trott flicked his fringe from his eyes and picked up the tickets the man had slid under the glass. He remembered suddenly that he was being tactless and attempted to cover the name on the ticket, but it was too late for that. Ross had a frustrating habit of reading anything and everything he laid eyes on: private or otherwise.  
“Brighton?”  
“Oh c’mon, you’ve ruined the surprise now!!”  
“Trott, I don’t know where Brighton is. I haven’t ruined anything.”  
The selkie grinned softly, unable to stop himself from chuckling. He pulled Ross to him, resting his head gently by his ear and enjoying the way he shivered under his touch, “Good. I wouldn’t want you to spoil it for yourself now, would I?”  
The gargoyle murmured something in response. Trott found that it was almost impossible to resist the urge to mess with him while he was like this, so eager and passive under his touch. The way he jittered as he breathed words into his ear was near maddening. In some ways, he was pleased that Smith had burnt down that church. It was nice to have a companion who was so unresisting to anything and everything he suggested. This trip was going to be fun.  
   
When they arrived, Trott wasn't particularly surprised to find that everywhere was cold. Not just cold, mind, but freezing, so much so that he had to take a detour towards a crappy-looking shop along the beach front in order to buy scarves for the both of them. Ross protested, saying he was used to the cold, but didn’t stop Trott when he reached up to loop the scarf around his neck and tie it in a very fancy knot.  
“There,” He marvelled, “Now you won’t look suspicious walking around in Arctic-style weather in just a fleece.”  
As soon as his back was turned Ross rolled his eyes. He had come to see that Trott was used to being in charge, the controller of the situation, and having only known him for a week or so Ross would have felt mean taking that role away. After all, it was doing him little or no harm to have to be submissive. He was rather enjoying it, in fact. Trott was exactly what he needed right now in this new environment: a guide, giving him directions left right and centre. Not to mention, as long as he behaved, Trott seemed more than happy to reward Ross with little brushes of affection and encouragement and food, a luxury the gargoyle had barely been in contact with in his long and rather dreary existence. There were other rewards he enjoyed, but he tried not to ask for those too often. It made him feel entitled, and it wasn’t like Trott owed him in anyway. If anything, Ross was in debt to him and Smith for getting him out of that church. While he’d been mad at first, it had been obvious he wasn’t enjoying his life there. He’d never have had the heart to do what Smith had done in a million years, God knows he’d have lasted that long. What had happened only two weeks before was something that would make Ross forever indebted to them. He knew that much.  
   
His train of thought had twisted so much that it took him a moment to come back down to earth, where he realised they were now walking along the beach. There was sand creeping into his shoes and it had somehow made its way into his socks as well. It rubbed his feet coarsely and he had half a mind to chuck his shoes off there and then. Trott, however, didn’t even seem to notice the sand. His eyeline remained firmly out towards the sea, a mixture of lust and pain in his eyes. By now, Ross knew all about what had happened between Trott and his selkie kind, why he chose to stay away from the water now and why he rarely ever donned his skin. It all seemed so tragic. There’s was something poetic about watching him as he stared at the waves, knowing he’d never touch them again, at least not for many years. Without realising, Ross had reached out for Trott’s hand, his stony fingers brushing his soft skin with as much grace as you would expect from a man made of stone. Trott didn’t seem to mind that he had interrupted what might have been a private moment, and clang to the touch anxiously. The numbing heat of Trott’s hand was comforting. He wondered suddenly if Trott was really the one in need of reassurance in this situation. Either way, Ross was thoroughly enjoying this, indulged himself in the sounds of the ocean and the company of his selkie beside him.  
"I always used to come to Brighton in my selkie days. I came here with Smith once, a long time ago. We don't talk about that. Kind of a what-happens-in-Brighton style pact he made me do with him. I remember though when we got here he made me buy him ice cream because he'd never had it from Brighton before, which was a pretty shit reason but I was head over heels for the prick so I bought him it anyway."  
"It's nice." He said.  
Trott tightened his grip supportively, chuckling slightly at Ross' vague response. "Good.. but this isn't quite 'it' yet, Ross. You have, literally, not seen anything yet."  
At that, Ross quirked an eyebrow down at his little friend. He had seen plenty, in his mind. Still, he chose not to question it. Instead he continued to meander along beside Trott, who continued to gaze wistfully off into the distance.  
"...mate, do you-"  
"Yes I know what a beach is. I was created with all the knowledge I'd ever need, just none of the experience."  
Trott chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, "Sorry. Sounded meaner than it meant to."  
"You're alright. You aren't the first person to ask and you sure as hell won't be the last." There was warmth in his tone and it settled the awkward atmosphere.

As they walked, it dawned on him that the sky was slowly changing colours, dimming to a dull grey-blue that signified the night was approaching. Trott hadn't expected them to take so long to get here and he hadn't factored in the time it would take to get from the station to the seaside itself. By now, he imagined the evening was closing in on them, which narrowed down their options for the next few hours. He had a few ideas...though how many of them Ross would be happy with he wasn't sure. This was a prize opportunity to do some research on how "pliable" Ross could be. Yet it made him feel guilty, mucking Ross about like this. While he'd been disturbingly complicit so far, there was a little twitch in the back of Trott's mind that suggested he may be testing Ross' patience. Still, as they walked along, Trott steered Ross towards a worn set of stone stairs that led up to the promenade.  
"Tell you what we'll do, Ross. Seeing as it's getting on a bit, we'll head back to the hotel room and drop our stuff off, then come back here later on so I can show you what we traveled four hours to see. Sound fair?"  
He didn't require much convincing. Ross nodded, and allowed to Trott to direct him through the brightly lit front of Brighton and then towards some slightly smaller, more innocent looking country roads. He had to hand it to Trott; he was really looking forward to this.


	2. watch lights shine bright in front of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit shorter than the last one. Hope you enjoy, this was a lot of fun to write!!

It took them a matter of minutes to rush to the room they were staying in and dump their bags, which left them with an hour or so free and nowhere really to go. They spent a while in the room itself, flicking through the four available channels and taking turns in the shower. Once both of them were squeaky clean and bored stiff with watching crap television on the lowest quality it could possibly be viewed in, they decided to head out again for another stroll along the seaside. Little did Ross know, Trott had planned all of this, timing everything from when they would get back to the stuffy bed and breakfast to how long he would stand in the shower, despite the fact he was clean as a whistle and had already been in the shower this morning. Everything was falling into place just the way he had expected it to, and now they were padding bare foot along the beach, after Ross had gotten fairly frustrated by the grains in his shoes and discarded them somewhere behind them. It was hard enough getting Ross to wear clothes on an average day, but Trott could forgive him just this once. He was often unrelenting and felt bad for having forced the poor bloke to start wearing clothes the minute he had stepped past the threshold and onto their property. If he had been in Ross’ place, living the life of a nudist for however many centuries he’d had been alive, Smith would be hard pressed to get him dressed too. 

“Trott, I don’t mean to sound like an ungrateful little bugger, but you didn't bring me out here just to let the sand erode my feet did you?”  
He laughed heartily and shook his head, “We’re nearly there. You’ll like it, I promise.”  
Ross exhaled heavily and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. They walked for a further ten minutes, Ross grumbling quietly to himself and keeping his eyes transfixed on the ground. He was used to remaining perfectly still for hours on end, so walking up and down the beach for more than a minute or two made his non-existent rocky bones ache. Trott didn't seem to mind so much, but he could tell how tired Ross was and allowed his to rest on the sand a minute while he went to dip his feet in the ocean. From where he was sat, Ross had a lovely view out to the sea, which glittered serenely in the pale moonlight. It perfectly outlined the coastal rocks and the cliff edge that blocked his view of the rest of the beach, but best of all it outlined the small, slender figure of Chris. Ross leaned back against the sand and watched him through half-lidded eyes, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there on the sand. Instead, he tried to focus his full attention on how Trott moved along the water’s edge with graceful ease, despite how deep into the waves he was. He wondered how long it had been since Trott had ventured into sea, which then led him onto wondering something else; how much of this trip was for him? 

Ross’ train of thought skidded to a halt. Maybe Trott had brought him here so…he could see him in his natural habitat? It sounded like an odd thing to cross his mind and yet it somehow made a lot of sense, now he’d come to think of it. When he’d woken him up this morning and mumbled in his ear to get dressed so they could go somewhere, he’d referred to it as a “bonding trip”. Surely there was nothing that brought two people closer than seeing each other stripped down to the bare bones, bright and wild and free. He watched Trott move through the water and he swore he could almost see him there now, tusks bared and jaw wide, feral in every sense of the word…

“Ross? C'mon mate, you’ll miss it if you’re not careful”  
The gargoyle opened his eyes and he was met by Trott, a few inches away, grinning down on him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. He reached up to rub his face but drew his hands away when he realised they were coated in sand. He’d been asleep, though he wasn't sure for how long.  
“You clocked out as soon as you sat down. I didn't realise how shattered you were.” Trott said, as though reading his mind. Ross nodded softly. His breathing pattern was still drowsy and his eyes were heavily laden with sleep. He would have liked nothing more than to just settle back into the sand and doze for a few more hours. Of course, he knew he couldn't actually do that. Trott had brought him all the way out her, shut up the shop for a day and paid for both their train fares. He could stay awake for an hour or two just to see what was so exciting about Brighton that Trott would bring him here and sacrifice a day’s income. 

It took no less than seven minutes for it to come into view. They had just climbed a hill, a mile or less from the beach, and Ross hadn't even had a moment to recover before he’d been mesmerised by the sight before him. Down by the beach front, there was a section completely removed for the others by one small factor: it was draped entirely in fairy lights. Every inch, each streetlamp, all the railings along the coast line, wrapped in metres and metres of glittering LEDs. While that was very beautiful, it was not the thing that made him stare, his gemstone eyes transfixed on the sight before him. What made him unable to move his gaze was the pier. A huge pier, protruding just under half a mile into the ocean. It shone like a beacon in the sea, shooting faint beams of light out into the darkness and creating one of the prettiest scene he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Fair rides spun softly, too far away to make anything out with a reliable degree of accuracy, and yet so close he could almost hear the waves underneath him and see the attractions all around him, the pier alive with music and people. How could Trott possibly know how much he loved things like this? He’d never said a word to anyone, never, not that he’d ever had a chance. He didn't keep a diary, he couldn't remember bringing it up in conversation at all. It was impossible.  
“Sorry mate. The magic comes in handy sometimes.”  
“So you read my mind?” Ross asked, surprised but not disappointed or angry.  
“Only the once. Never again.”  
Ross doubted highly he was telling the truth, but found himself unable to argue without coming across as a prat.  
“I…”  
“You like it? Beautiful view. Better than a cityscape any day, believe you me.” He shuffled his feet through the grass, “I was going to take you down there. Actually on the pier an’ all that rubbish, go on a few rides…”  
“It’s okay. It’s fine just how it is.”

Trott came over to Ross and tucked his hand gently into Ross’ pocket. The gargoyle hummed approvingly, and wrapped his tail affectionately around Trott’s leg. They stood that way for a moment, until Trott’s hand slipped silently out of Ross’ pocket, made its way up his arm and latched silently onto the side of his face, his thumb rubbing his jaw tenderly. Ross turned and before he knew what was happening, he had ducked down and was kissing him, softly, running his stone-cold lips passionately over Trott’s. He was so warm, so sensitive and keening beside him. Their mouths moved so effortlessly in sync despite how flustered Ross was, and Trott brought his other hand up to cup Ross’ face, dragging down so he could reach him with more ease. Ross didn't pull back, despite how uncomfortable he found the position, and rested his hands carefully on Trott’s sides, pulling him close and holding his so the two could move together. As they broke apart, much to Ross’ dismay, there was a smug look plastered on his face.  
“Let’s go home and get to bed.”

There was something about the way he said it that suggested to Ross they weren't going to be sleep. It looked like this was going to be a great bonding trip after all…


End file.
